Mother, Son
by PinkRangerV
Summary: Rita saw Tommy as a son. Tommy saw Rita as a mother. Are they capable of being on opposite sides? AU, angst, inspired by P-35 Phoenix.
1. Chapter 1

A\N: Angst. It's what I do. :)

* * *

She'd chained herself in her room for a week.

Goldar and Scorpina had wondered, knocking on the thick door occasionally. Squatt and Baboo were too stupid to notice. Finster knew exactly why she did it.

Sane again, Rita stared at the chains holding her, then spoke the word to unlock them. They sprang free, tearing open scabbed wounds. She nearly screamed again in pain.

She was far too hoarse to scream, though.

Rita glanced at the stale water on the table. She hadn't assumed she would be gone so long...she ignored her thoughts and tossed the water back, gasping as her stomach pleaded for more. Her blood dripped down her hands and legs, staining her white gown and long silver hair.

She sat on the bed and began to dress her wounds.

Zordon, despite all her attempts to make him look so, was no fool. He had chosen children to be Power Rangers. Children. Goldar had seen nothing odd with that, but, well...

A warrior Rita might be. A queen, certainly. And these infants should long ago have been either captive or dead.

But Rita was a woman.

Women mothered.

That was not, as Earthlings would put it, sexist. One of the first things Rita had learned was that in any species, the males created and protected life, while the females sheltered and mothered it. She was no different. When Rita had seen the Power register on her telescope, her first thought had been to crush the warriors.

Then she had seen them.

Her next attempt had been to capture them. But while they fought, she saw something interesting in them. They were no warriors, true, but something in her mind had clicked into place. Yes, she had a son, Thrax, but she had not raised him--his father did that, in the tradition of their people.

And the Rangers were children.

Happy, bubbly Kimberly had caught her eye first. She was filled with Magyk, the life-force that Rita drew on. Purity and childlike innocence radiated from her. The others had fallen quickly into place in her mind. Strong, courageous Jason, a warrior that her own people would have been proud of; calm, capable Trini, who could rival Zordon in subtlety; laughing, teasing Zack, who easily held the team together; and sweet, shy Billy, young but promising.

Rita wasn't an idiot. That was widely known. Ordinarily, she was considered the best Queen her people had ever thought to have.

But she wished, on some level, that these children were _hers_.

So she trained them.

Her 'monsters' were pathetic. The challenges were nothing. Yet the Rangers cut their teeth against them, learning, growing, changing. Goldar had, several times, muttered that if he'd wanted to train infants, he would have taught on his homeworld.

Rita smiled as she began healing a new wound. He was not a mother.

He didn't know a mother's love. It wasn't the trite phrase humans used--when that part of her mind had clicked, she had been incapable of truly defeating the Rangers. In fact, there were times when she considered stealing them off the battlefield and whisking them to safety.

But she knew they would run from her. They would hurt her, never realizing that she had not, and never would, hurt them.

But the sixth power coin remained.

Tommy had been a godsend. A dangerous enemy, yes...but Zordon would have recruited him, given half a chance. And Rita had a chance to create a Ranger of her own.

A _son_ of her own.

She'd dived into his mind. He'd needed her, on some level, needed a parent to look up to. So she gave him that. A family, safety, comfort...

Even Goldar had forgotten that he wasn't free. He'd been part of their team.

A son to her.

Rita's own remembered screams filled her ears.

"Tommy, Tommy, _TOMMY!_"

She slammed her eyes shut, fighting back the pain.

Zordon had _taken Tommy_.

Rita opened her eyes.

Enough, she told herself. You've been through this. And you decided to let him go.

Because he's happier there.

Rita shut her eyes again, the soft, painful sound that was her people's tears passing her lips. Tommy _was_ happier with Zordon. It didn't hurt, no; Tommy was young, and needed company his own age. He also needed Earth. He needed freedom, Kimberly, the first dates and kisses that his own people shared.

Rita was a mother.

She finished the final bandage and stood. She was a mother, and looked with a mother's eyes. She had let Tommy go, in the end, otherwise the Sword of Darkness wouldn't have shattered. Tommy would have instead.

She had let him go because he was happier on Earth. Because, above all, she wanted him to _live_.

Rita unlocked the door and walked out.

Finster's laboratory smelled good, for the first time Rita could remember. She saw a plate of food waiting for her, along with water.

Finster looked at her in sympathy.

"Eat." He said gently. "Then we'll talk."

Rita would have chided him for his lack of respect, but her body was too weak. She ate slowly, careful not to make herself sick. Finally--far too long for her tastes--she was able to speak again.

"Finster. Did I do the right thing?"

Finster frowned.

"I left Tommy." Rita shut her eyes. "I _abandoned_ him, Finster! I left him to Zordon! _Zordon!_ He uses children as shields!"

Finster nodded slowly.

Rita opened her eyes again, looking at the white-skinned monster. "Finster...please."

The scientist considered for a moment before speaking. "You did the right thing."

Rita shook her head, the soft keen beginning to form on her lips again.

Finster laid his hand on her arm.

"Empress." He said gently. "You did what you had to do. Look in your telescope. Tommy is happy now. He has friends, family, a future..."

"I would have made him my son."

Finster stayed silent.

Finally Rita stood. Carefully, she walked to her telescope and peered through.

Her first glimpse of Tommy almost took her breath away.

Her son. Her _son_.

He was sitting on his bed, talking on the phone animatedly. Happily. Rita felt a small smile touch her lips. He was happy.

Then he hung up.

Rita frowned as a change came over him. He became silent, withdrawn, moody. He flopped back on his bed, laying utterly still. _That_ was unusual--Rita hadn't even tried to teach him to sit still, he was just too young.

Her son was in pain.

"Empress?" Finster asked. "He is well, isn't he? When I looked--"

"You caught him at the right time." Rita said.

Her eyes were trained on Tommy.

The young man shut his eyes, trying to sleep. It came slowly, fitfully, and Rita watched helplessly as he tossed and turned. How long had it been since he'd slept? How long since he'd had nightmares?

Why nightmares?

She hadn't hurt him. She'd never, ever have done that. But perhaps hurting his teammates had taken a toll on him. Perhaps the human concept of altruisim was not a publicity stunt by politicians, as she'd assumed, and was instead in her surrogate child.

"Rita."

The sorceress froze.

Tommy's lips moved again, but no sound came out. Rita must have heard his thoughts.

"My Empress?" Finster asked.

The sound snapped her out of indecision. She stood quickly, moving away from the telescope. Rules be damned--her son needed her.

"Empress?"

"Tell Goldar and Scorpina I've gone for the moment." Rita instructed. "Don't tell them where."

"But, Empress--"

Rita didn't bother to listen.

She was getting her son back.


	2. Chapter 2

A\N: Yeah, I'm gonna write this whole story today. Enjoy.

* * *

Tommy hadn't slept in a week.

The others had assumed he was afraid of Rita. Trini had, quite baldly, cornered him the third day and asked him whether Rita had hurt him.

He'd said no.

It was the truth. Rita had loved him. Not in a creepy way; Tommy nearly vomited at the thought. She'd seen a son in him. And, honestly, he'd seen a mother in her.

Tommy hadn't had a mother in a long time.

He hadn't had a _parent_ in a long time. The Olivers had adopted him, but they were 'busy people' with 'important lives'. Too important for their child, as far as he could see.

When he'd realized that, he'd burned all his fairy tales.

They were full of lies, Tommy knew. In the books, the poor orphan was given a home and love and saved. But salvation meant nothing. It was just another lie.

And Tommy wanted truth.

So he rebelled. Drugs, sex, alcohol, whatever vice he could find. He'd raced cars a bit, gotten in bed with both boys and girls, trying to see which he liked, gotten high and drunk and finally spiraled into cutting his arms. The blade he used had been stolen from a Renaissance Fair, and when Tommy held it, he always felt a moment of beauty.

Mystery and magic wound around him.

Then he tore his arm open and it faded, and Tommy tried to tell himself he was glad because mystical things were lies.

Finally his 'parents' had discovered the marks.

Rehab, psychologists, and more lies later, he was free. Supposedly, anyway. He'd never really bothered to heal. He wasn't interested.

But Rita had healed him.

When he'd awoken from Rita's brainwashing spell, he'd cried. Just sobbed into her shoulder, as she held him, whispering soothing nonsense. She had let him cry himself out and then babble to her, a stream of words that he hadn't always understood, pain and darkness and death leaving him.

Tommy flopped down onto his bed, flicking the phone off. That was the one thing the Rangers didn't understand. If it weren't for Rita, he would be dead right now. He would have killed himself as soon as he left her.

But she had saved him.

She had loved him.

And he had betrayed her.

Tommy wanted to scream. But instead he shut his eyes. _Think of Kim,_ he ordered himself. _The Rangers. Anything. Don't think about her!_

It still hurt.

He sighed and let his mind drift away. _Sleep, then_, he told himself. _If you're going to wish yourself to her, dream of her. That might help._

So he shut his eyes.

The pain took him anyway.

He drifted through a sea of nightmare images, of his human friends laughing and torturing him, making him pay for hurting them. Of Zordon solemnly condemning him to a thousand horrible fates. Of Goldar in battle against him, trying to kill him for his betrayal. Of Scorpina's terrifying beauty...

Of his mother.

His lips formed her name, crying out for her, but in the darkness she couldn't hear him. She was chained and weeping, in a white gown, her hair loose and her body broken. She screamed his name and he screamed hers, trying to run to her, to save her.

And then she looked up.

Her gaze went through him, and he gasped. "Rita?" He whispered.

Then she reached out.

And then he woke up.


	3. Chapter 3

A\N: And now they meet! Enjoy!

* * *

Rita gently pressed her palm to her son's cheek.

Tommy jolted up as if shocked. Rita stepped back, waiting as he gasped, his head turning. Then he saw her.

For a moment, they just looked at each other.

Tommy saw her bloodstained white dress, the bandages peeking out from under the cloth, the tousled long hair she hadn't remembered to comb. Rita saw his wild, haunted eyes, the bags under them, the telltale marks of red fingernails on his arms.

Then, gently, Rita reached out.

Tommy clung to her like a drowning man, sobbing as he had the first day they met. Rita sat beside him, crooning nonsense to her son, the keening tone of her voice occasionally escaping her control.

They were home.

Tommy shut his eyes as his tears dried, burying his head in Rita's shoulder. She pressed her face to his head, letting her own eyes drift shut.

"My son." She whispered softly. "My baby boy. Shh. Shh. Mama's here. Your mother's here..."

She almost began to cry again.

Mother.

There was no disgrace in the word. It was honorable to care for others. But Rita had never been a mother before.

And now she was. Just like that.

"Mother." Tommy whispered in agreement. "Rita."

"Yes." Rita said.

Tommy suddenly regained himself, pulling away. Rita smiled through her tears. Boys and their pride...

"Who hurt you?" Tommy growled, his eyes flashing green.

Rita shook her head. "No, no, Tommy...I did this."

Tommy's eyes changed, fearful and concerned.

"I kept myself locked in my room." Rita explained. "I was going insane, I would have killed myself otherwise. Although it seems I should have been more careful about what I did." She ended ruefully, glancing at her bandaged arms.

Tommy reached out, carefully taking an arm. He badly pronounced the word of healing, and the Universe responded, bending itself to the child's will.

It did almost nothing.

Rita couldn't have been more proud.

"You remembered." She whispered. "I thought Zordon would have tried to make you forget."

"He can't get in my mind." Tommy said simply. Coldly. _Too_ coldly--Rita suddenly felt a dark weight in her stomach. She reached out, lifting her son's chin so she could look in his eyes, and thus in his mind.

It was clear. Clean. Tommy was whole.

"He thought you brainwashed me." Tommy explained.

Rita smiled dryly. "I think the correct term is _counter_brainwashing. Where in the galaxy did you get your ideas from?"

Tommy glanced at the floor. "M'parents." He muttered.

Rita's smile vanished.

Tommy looked up at her, smiling weakly. "S'okay now." He said. "I got you."

Rita nodded slightly, putting her arm around her child's shoulders.

For a moment, possibilities whirled through her head. She was a master strategist, thanks to her height. No short person could rely on brute force; no, the mind had to be developed. And her mind was the best.

"The guys are gonna hate me." Tommy muttered slightly.

Rita looked down at him, then realized that he had begun thinking as well.

Good.

"There are three choices." She said quietly. "One, stay here. Forget you met me. I'll do the same for you, if you like."

Tommy frowned.

"Two, join me again. Become 'evil'. Stay with me until you're really ready to leave."

Again, there was no reply.

"And three..." Rita carefully translated her idea from her native language into English. "I have one son. But I would be honored to have two."

Tommy's head shot up.

He stared, just stared, at the woman who offered him so much. A home, a family...

Away from Kim.

Away from Earth.

Away from the people who needed him.

Tommy turned his face away in pain.

"Tommy?" Rita asked softly.

"I can't."

Rita frowned. "The monsters aren't a threat, little one." She reminded him. "You know that."

Tommy nodded. "But Zordon is."

Rita stayed silent.

"If Zordon was willing to take teenagers to be Rangers, then he'll be willing to do more." Tommy said quietly. "I...I want to come with you, Rita. I want to go home."

Rita bit back her tears.

Suddenly Tommy's head lifted, his eyes searing through her. "But I'm _not_ letting my friends get hurt again."

Rita felt a slow, powerful pride take her.

Her son was noble. Strong. Courageous.

A warrior.

"You hate me." Tommy whispered, his head falling.

Rita laughed. Actually laughed, taking Tommy in her arms again.

"No." She whispered. "Tommy, I'm _proud_ of you."

Tommy looked hesitantly up at her.

"You're doing the right thing." Rita said. "It will hurt. But the sacrifice..." She shut her eyes and forced herself to say it. "You're doing the right thing."

Her mind screamed at her. Doubtless Tommy's was screaming at his.

But they parted anyway.

Tommy watched her quietly. "When it's over..." He asked.

"Then I'll take you home." Rita promised softly, then touched his temple, whispering a word. "If you need me, I'm right here."

"Thank you." Tommy whispered.

Rita stood, hesitating.

Leaving your son was hard.

But she did it anyway.

* * *

ELEVEN YEARS LATER...

The former Black Ranger reached to unlock his door.

It was open.

A hair. Nothing a human would have noticed. But Tommy Oliver was not quite human.

He frowned and pushed it open.

There, in the middle of his living room, stood an elvish woman in a white dress. Her long silver hair flowed to the ground now, and a metal staff was in her hand.

She held out her other.

"Son." She said, her smile lighting the room. "It's time to come home."


End file.
